


pursuant, tracking home

by Valeks_princess



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Big Brother Jason, F/M, Identity Reveal, brat chat, competent marinette, eventual identity reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:51:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeks_princess/pseuds/Valeks_princess
Summary: Marinette has been dating Damian for nigh on seven months, splitting her time between Gotham and Paris. She hasn't told him her identity yet, but that's okay, because neither has he. In fact, neither of them has any idea about the other's night job. But back in Paris things are getting tricky, between things heating up at school and a bratty Chat, Marinette just might have to confide in the youngest Wayne after all.





	1. What's in a Home?

Marinette was cold, the chill of Gotham in autumn biting deep into her rapidly weakening body. The bug shivered, clutching tighter to the navy coat wrapped around her slim frame. The dank atmosphere of the archaic city was pervasive, creeping around the multitude of layers the young woman had tried to insulate herself with. It was the fog, she thought, Gotham was perpetually shrouded in shadows and creeping unease. Good for the Bat, not so much for everyday citizens. The people here were harder than those in her native city, gaunt and nervy. Gotham at ground level was a shithole, the atmosphere one of drawn out fear and desolate hopelessness, there was none of the sunlit hope that so characterised Paris. The villains here were human, and gritty. There was no magical Cure. Here, when people died, it was bloody. No one here was trying to fight a war of attrition so much as trying to survive in the ruins of one that had already been lost long ago. But life went on, and people adapted. Like the young foreigner hastening down the street, hurrying to get out of the cold. It was still daylight out so she had no problem being alone. 

She stepped into a cafe, like everyone else ignoring the wooden board across one of the glass windows out front. She’d gawked, at first, but nowhere in Gotham was without scars from the carnage on the streets. Eventually people stopped caring about replacing things that broke, or were broken. A short wait and she was back outside again, shivering, clutching a tray of drinks. Gifts, for her boyfriend and his family. She liked bringing them things at work, liked putting a smile on _ someone _ in this hellhole, but more than that she wanted to have something to distract them when she first arrived. Something to keep them from looking too deeply into the lie that she’d been down by the bay sketching the Metro-Narrows bridge, it wasn't like they could know the truth after all, that she’d been portal-hopping to Paris to fight an Akuma. 

Marinette made short work of the trip back to the Wayne Enterprises building, gently heeled boots clipping against the marble floor as she skirted the broad expanse of the grand lobby, slipping behind the security desk to take the private elevator up to Tim’s office. Though officially only one Wayne son worked at the company all of them could regularly be found haunting the building. Marinette didn’t really understand it, didn’t Dick at least have his own job in Blüdhaven? But she supposed it made some sense, in a way, it was their father’s company so they’d probably grown up around it, all cared and wanted to help, right? 

True to form Detective Dick Grayson was leaning over Tim’s desk, the two of them pouring over sheafs of plans. Across the room Damian Wayne was on a chaise longue, scowling into his hands. They looked up when she entered, and Dick stepped forward to take the drinks– plain coffee for Tim, an inordinately sweet concoction built over a coffee base for Dick, and two hot chocolates for herself and Damian– diverting her from the desk as Tim stood and began to roll the papers. They saw her looking.

“For the rebuilding,” Dick explained “the building was damaged in the attacks”. Her eyes narrowed, but she let it go. She knew the difference between building schematics and plans of the _ streets_, but she knew Wayne Enterprises footed the bill for most of the structural rebuilding around the city, so maybe it had something to do with that? Marinette abandoned the thought, turning instead to Damian, whose green eyes were still shuttered in a baleful glare. The scowl melted from his face as she approached, and his brow smoothed as she pressed a kiss to his temple. His lips twitched, just the barest quirk upwards as he accepted the drink she delivered, and he moved to accommodate her by his side, one arm bracketing her as he let his head fall to rest on her shoulder, his thick, styled hair already tending to disarray from his earlier actions. She knew he’d fix it before he left the office, would fix it instantly if he knew, but for now enjoyed the imperfection. It was cute. 

“So about tonight,” she shifted, gaze moving from Damian resting against her side to his brothers across the room. Her cheeks heated as she realised the two older boys were watching them. She felt more than saw Damian’s scowl return, and Tim smothered a laugh into his coffee. “I know we said we’d all do dinner but something’s come up and we’ve got to go out. Don’t worry though Barbara is coming over so you won’t be alone”. Marinette’s brow creased, this explained Damian’s frown. She’d been looking forward to catching up with Daminan’s extended family before she went home next week but she supposed she could always use the opportunity to patrol, making her excuses and ditching one person would be easier than finding an opportunity around the entire Wayne clan. 

“That’s alright. Another night then?” Tim grinned.

* * *

When Jason Todd arrived at the Manor that night it was with a flourish. Strutting inside as Alfred opened the door and immediately moving to scoop Marinette into a hug. The girl shrieked as she was lifted off her feet, batting her fists ineffectually against the block of tight muscle making up his shoulder. 

“Jason!” but the older boy just laughed as he spun the lightweight Parisian before letting her drop back to the floor. 

“Sorry we’re bailing on you tonight pixie-pop. I bet Demon spawn’s still sulking”

“It’s alright, really. And _ Damian _is disappointed to be missing dinner”. She still took issue with that nickname, she supposed that was just how brothers were but it seemed excessively cruel to her. She’d asked Damian about it once and he’d mumbled something about his grandfather, but had admitted to her that he didn't really mind the nickname, that it made him think about the person he’d been in the past and his commitment to be better, to be a son worthy of his father, which sounded awfully heavy to her, but supposed that it was his choice in the end and she should respect his decision. She still didn't approve of hearing it though. 

“Yeah, I'll bet” Jason snorted, laughing when he reached out to mess up her hair and she dodged under his arm, reaching up to straighten her pigtails.

“Jason!” But he was unrepentant, the older boy grinning as he headed deeper into the house.

“Come on, Steph’ll be here soon. Really Mari, we are sorry about ditching you tonight”

“It’s _ fine_” Marinette sighed, following Jason down the hall, sure it might’ve been disappointing but she didn’t mind, not when it gave her an opportunity to get out of the house. 

* * *

The Wayne family had left some time ago, and Marinette needed to clear her head. The situation back in Paris was getting worse, Chat had barely even done anything that last Akuma! _ “You seemed to have it well under control, my Lady” _ her arse! She didn't know what was going on with him lately, he’d been surly and shirking his responsibilities for months now! And he wouldn't _ talk _ to her, how was she meant to manage her heroes if her partner refused to confide in her? Maybe there was a problem in his civilian life? But he should know better than to allow it to affect him as Chat, and he should at least _ tell her _ so she could plan around it! Marinette shook her head, forcing her mind blank. She was in Gotham now, not Paris, and there was no reason to wait around inside the Manor when she could be out patrolling the streets. It had been a habit she’d never been able to shift, feeling antsy and cooped up inside her boyfriend’s home. Sure Gotham had its own heroes, and no one could know that Ladybug was here, but even if her patrol was completely uneventful (impossible, this was Gotham, there was always someone in need) then at least she was _ out there _, at least her fingers could stop their uncontrollable tapping, her heart could settle and her eyes would stop their rapid-fire flitting around whatever room she was in. 

Marinette made a final sweep of the Manor, checking that it was safe for her to head out– Babs had made her excuses and headed off into the den, saying she had a very important call to take, and Alfred had similarly disappeared. If that was odd Marinette didn't care, it made it easier for her to lock herself in her room and transform. She knew Ladybug couldn't be seen outside of Paris, but when it became clear that the only way to keep the anxiety at bay was to patrol she’d gotten creative. Gotham’s heroes weren't magic, they had _ costumes _ not transformations, so Marinette had fashioned a disguise that she could wear over her suit while transformed. It was more of an exoskeleton really, lightweight material threaded through with enough kevlar fibre to keep its shape taut to her body instead of fluttering and impeding movement but not to offer any real protection. That wasn't what she needed it for, not with her transformation. She stepped into the sheaf of material, fastening it at the back, before armouring herself in a series of gauntlets and guards. These too were more for show than actual protection, as well as keeping the material in place. When she was finished her costume was dark, with thin red accents, able to blend into the Gotham night with not a spot to be seen. The magic of her miraculous obscured her face anyway, so she didn't bother with a cowl to hide her hair and shadow her mask. All in all her disguise was flexible, highly mobile, and gave the appearance of being armoured. All things she needed, especially if she didn't want to explain her magic invulnerability to Gotham’s native heroes. 

Ladybug eased open the window, and slipped outside. It was easy to cast her yo-yo (the one thing that couldn't be disguised) towards a tree in the grounds, high-tension chord yanking her into the branches at speed. She didn't know exactly where the Wayne's had surveillance in the grounds but it was only logical to suppose they _ did _, and she hoped that a combination of magic and sheer velocity would make her nothing more than a blur if any of the family happened to check the video at some point. Another throw of her yo-yo, and Ladybug had disappeared into the Gotham night. 

* * *

“Heads up guys, Ladybird’s out tonight”. Oracle’s voice in his ear, and Nightwing swore, tight and coiled as an overwound spring. An unknown variable was exactly what they didn’t need tonight. 

“Wow, tell us what you really think” Tim’s words were light but tone tense, and Dick knew his brother was also feeling the pressure, they all were. Tonight was too important to be upset by an unknown, they’d finally located the latest trafficking ring and had had to move on the information right away, they couldn't afford anything going wrong. _ Fucking fly away home _ indeed. They were reasonably certain that the other mask was a hero, but other than that they were a complete unknown who seemed to take pains to avoid them. Dick just hoped that luck would hold. They didn't even know the stranger’s _ name _, had made up the code Ladybird on their own after Tim had snarled the old rhyme. Dick’s younger brother was continually frustrated by the inability of any cameras or even their own memories to hold onto the features of their face, more so than even Babs, who was obsessive about keeping her technology faultless. It worried Dick too, Gotham was their city, theirs to protect, and if this stranger didn't want to play by their rules then they needed to leave. But that was a problem for another night. 

“Where are they?”

“Newtown, heading back towards the CBD” That was good. The Bat clan was in the south-west corner of Gotham, near what had once been the financial centre of the city way back in the height of the 50s before it had steadily crumbled into a decayed shadow of past prosperity, like most of the city. Even Wayne money can’t keep the entirety of Gotham afloat. It was unlikely that Ladybird would stumble upon them with that much distance between them. 

“Keep an eye out just in case,” he ordered, turning his attention back towards the ramshackle building as the Batman slipped inside, accompanied by Spoiler “Reds, Orphan I want you ready. Robin, tell us when you get two blocks out”. Ladybird was a problem for another night.


	2. What's in a Home?

Three heroes were out on patrol, running the Parisian rooftops as if it was their own personal playground. The night was blustery, with wind and rain lashing the city. It didn’t bother the trio, and streaks of laughter lit up the darkness alongside bursts of colour. They stood out like broken neon lights, toxic, twisted. A festering abnormality. It was _ wrong_, none of them should have their miraculous, none of them should _ have _ a miraculous. What about Nino, Alya? When was the last time they’d been allowed as Carapace or Rena Rouge? And Ladybug was favouring Chloe, Kagami, and _ Luka _ instead of _ his _ friends? Hadn’t Ladybug said it was too dangerous to let Chloe be the Bee again since _ everyone _ knew her identity? The clouds shifted, wind still howling, and the moon lit up the night. The trio stopped running, and Chat allowed himself to fade deeper into the shadows, instincts crawling as he resisted the urge to snarl at the other male. Chloe and Kagami used to be _ his _ friends. How dare these three be joking around together, how _ dare _ they. They had no right to be holders. It should be just him and his Lady! It wasn’t fair! She never even came on patrol anymore. He only ever got to see her during attacks! Chat scowled, glaring at the group of other heroes. It was all their fault, him and Ladybug had been just fine on his own before they came and ruined everything. How dare they call themselves heroes, they were thieves! Well Chat wouldn’t stand for it, they wanted to replace him? Fine, they didn’t need him anyway. Let’s see how they fared without Destruction. Ladybug needed him, she might’ve forgotten it but he hadn’t, he was her black cat, she _ needed _ him, and she’d come crawling back, he knew she would. And when she did the first order of business would be getting rid of Viperion. 

* * *

Marinette snuggled closer to the warm body beside her, worming her way against Damian until she was practically in his lap. The youngest Wayne shifted, loosely wrapping his arms around her shoulders and lying down along the couch, drawing her down with him. They ended tangled, limbs entwined, and Damian tugged a blanket down over them. The Parisian tended to run cooler than most, and Damian could feel the chill to her skin. 

“Tt,” he huffed, wrinkling his nose more for appearances sake than anything else as his girlfriend moved, finally settling still as she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. The tip of her nose was cold where it burrowed against his skin. He frowned, wrapping his arms more tightly around her slight frame, pondering the merits of another blanket. Somehow his fingers found her hair, hastily thrown into a low bun, and began stroking the dark strands on their own volition. He frowned at them, but the room was empty, and Marinette was cold. “You’ll miss the movie, Angel”. 

“Already seen it, just-” a yawn “keep watching, ‘m awake I promise”. Damian chuckled, and rested his head on hers, her scent familiar and comforting. He closed his eyes. 

* * *

Jason entered the room, lured in by the sound of the TV. Miraculously his arrival didn't seem to have woken anyone, and he hurriedly pulled out his phone. His tiny pixie-pop and little D asleep on the lounge? Adorable (and prime teasing material). That just left the question, should he save the running for later, or wake them to see Mari flush scarlet and his little brother splutter with indignation. He caught sight of a glass on the table. Well, that ought to do it– he took a step towards it, but he softened at the sight of sleeping duo. Ok, maybe just this once he’ll let them think they got away with it. It would make the eventual reveal of the photos he has all the sweeter. And Damian really needs to get more sleep, plus Mari’s always so cold–

The sound of a shoe scuffing had him turning, and he watched as Steph entered the room, spotted the sleeping couple, and stopped. She aww’d. 

“They are so cute together! Who do you reckon fell asleep first, baby bat or Mari-bear?” Jason smirked. He might've decided to let it go, but she didn't know that. 

“Why don't I put this photo up on the group chat and we’ll have a vote?” She whacked him, a solid hit that made his arm ache. 

“Jason Todd don’t you dare!” He drew his phone in an exaggerated manner, grinning, Steph opened her mouth to berate him–

Marinette shifted, shivering slightly and burrowing closer to Damian. The two Bats ceased their play fighting immediately, flicking their eyes towards the sleeping pair. A moment of silent communication and they were creeping towards the sofa, Jason snatching up a spare blanket from the armchair across the room and tossing it to Steph, who gently laid it over their sleeping family members. They crept out of the room without a sound. 

* * *

It was late when Ryuko and Queen Bee finished patrol. Paris had been quiet that night, no akumas, and no need to call Ladybug back from her vacation. The two superheroines leapt from a roof, tucking tight and flipping smoothly into an alleyway nearby Chloe’s father’s hotel. Queen Bee was done for tonight, while Ryuko was pulling double duty with Viperion, the way Chloe had done the previous night, and Viperion would the next. Chloe dropped her transformation, straightening and brushing some imaginary dirt from her immaculate outfit. At least this alley was relatively clean, the life of a superhero was _ not _ as glamorous as she had originally assumed, and she idly thought about asking her father to petition the town council for some more street-sweepers to clean up this mess. 

The blonde turned to the still transformed Ryuko, pausing only to allow the other superheroine to incline her head in acknowledgement. 

“As you know Marinette will soon be returning from Gotham, what you _ don't _ know yet is that I am throwing her a party at Daddy’s hotel the week after she gets back. You are invited. Tell Luka when you see him next” she wrinkled her nose, somehow managing to drip disdain despite the friendliness of her words “I know you hang out with him, and Marinette would probably want him there, he’s a good friend to her, and goodness knows she doesn't have enough of _ those _ left. When it comes to doing something about _ Lie_la–” 

“Just say the word” Kagami promised darkly, eyes glinting, and Chloe grinned. 

“Knew there was a reason I liked you, Tsurugi”. She turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and disappeared without a goodbye. 

Without warning, Viperion dropped down into the alley, landing behind Ryuko. The dragon holder smiled, turning to face her friend. 

“Did you–”

“I heard. Guess I’ll be seeing you there” Viperion said with a wink. 

  
  


* * *

It was Saturday night, and Marinette was leaving Gotham tomorrow. Damian Wayne wasn’t _ moping_, no matter what his siblings said. He was disappointed, that’s all. It was no one’s business if he was uncharacteristically sullen as they readied themselves for patrol– _ no Tim he wasn’t sulking thank you very much_– and despite his bothers’ amusement the atmosphere in the Cave was muted, lacking the resounding exuberance usually so characteristic of the boys’ nightly preparations (despite Bruce’s silent reproval), and the vast underground space echoed with the fetid damper of the youngest Bat’s glour. Damian had been raised in the League, as the heir to Ra’s al Ghul. He was no stranger to unpleasant and undesired work, the first ten years of his _ life _ could be described thus, but he wanted nothing more than to stay in tonight, to be with his Angel before she returned to Paris in the morning. He knew better than to ask. Father would probably get that soft look around his eyes that seemed to appear whenever he watched his youngest interact with the French teen, Tim would immediately begin planning how best to cover his route as Jason laughed him out of the Cave and back into the house, while Dick would earnestly assure him that he wasn't disappointing them, that it was honestly alright– Damian knew that if he said he didn't _ want _ to patrol tonight then his family would have him covered, that unlike the League he was _ encouraged _to tell them if he wanted a night off. But Damian wouldn't do it. One more night with Marinette wouldn't change anything, he would still miss her the following day, and he would only spend the night feeling guilty for sending his family out there without him. Besides, his girlfriend was asleep upstairs, they’d probably be back before she even noticed they were gone. 

Damian knew all about pushing through distraction, and as soon as they emerged into the Gotham night everything that isn't the mission compartmentalises. He might be Robin, might be the blood-son of the Bat, but he’s still spent longer with the League, as Ra’s perfect successor and his mother's protege. Some things are too hard to shift. 

The night was chilly in a way characteristic of Gotham, the dank cold corrosive enough to etch open your very bones, the shrill whine of distant wind tapping into an instinctive well of primordial fear, hindbrains uncomfortably aware of the predators circling in the dark, biting deep to see what you were made of. Gotham at night either spat out survivors or marked easy prey, leaving you weak and fearful for the remainder of your very short life. The Bat clan was neither, Gotham was theirs as much as they belonged to the city, and they'd left their mark. 

The five Bats split up once they reached the city proper, Red Robin and the Batman pulling off towards their patrol for the night, covering the docks and industrial park, Robin and Red Hood breaking away soon, heading for the eastern edge of the central city, leaving Nightwing to continue on alone. Damian supposed that it was a compliment to allow him and Red Hood to patrol together, a subtle form of praise through recognition that they could be trusted to keep from rampant murder. He would deny to his last day that a tendril of warmth bloomed around his heart at the thought. 

Robin and Red Hood gave each other their space. Both were independent, for all that Damian was the current Robin he was as skilled as any of his brothers, and craved the solitude in a way that Nightwing and Red Robin couldn’t relate too. Only Red Hood came close, and that stemmed more from defensiveness than any sort of enjoyment found in being alone. They’d only been at it for just over an hour– two muggings, a smash and grab, and a skeevy looking Edwin Nigma– when Robin caught sight of the figure zipping across rooftops, leaping gaps that he himself wouldn't take without a grapple, and when they _ did _ swing between buildings it almost looked like they _ threw _ rather than fired the chord. It could only be Ladybird. 

“Heads up Hood, Ladybird’s in the vicinity” his brother grunted an affirmative, and the inbuilt computer on Robin’s gauntleted wrist beeped, drawing his attention to the fact Red Hood has deviated off route. “We weren't told to engage, idiot!” Robin snapped, hurrying towards the predicted intersection of his brother and the unknown mask. 

“Wouldn't be the first time I've gone off book, baby bird” the comm clicked, indicating Red Hood had opened the frequency “watch out B, ‘bout to set a fire under Ladybird’s house of cards”. Nightwing swore, and Robin knew his eldest brother hated that he wasn't at their backs. 

“Hold your position Nightwing, Red Robin and I are on our way to reinforce” Batman ordered, and Nightwing grumbled as he subsided. It was Tim who spoke next, hurrying to get the words out as Damian raced towards the figure, about to flip up onto the rooftop he knew Hood had just reached from the other side. 

“Try get a good look at their face!” 

“Do it yourself” he snapped, before launching himself after the unidentified mask. 

When Robin landed on the roof he emerged into a bizarre stand off, Ladybird menacingly twirling a yo-yo as she faced his brother. Well that explained the throwing, Robin thought, but surely it hadn't been possible to miniaturise a winch to that degree? Babs and Tim would have a field day if they could get their hands on that tech. 

“Woah easy,” Hood said, raising his hands placatingly “we just want to talk. We don't like unidentifiable masks in our city. So first off, vigilante or villain?” Up close it was clear that the figure was female, and remembering Tim’s words Robin tried to get a good look at her face, but he just couldn't hold onto her features, eyes sliding away no matter how hard he tried, memory liquefying the more he tried to hold onto it. It pissed him off, and Robin thought about drawing his sword. Somehow this woman had power over his mind, the mind that Damian had painstakingly and meticulously trained since birth to be obedient to his whims, his ultimate weapon. Batman would _ hate _it, and Robin’s grin at the thought was little more than a baring of teeth. And then the woman spoke. 

“Hero, not vigilante” the voice was accentless, ringing with a timeless sense of awe, ageless in its wisdom. That voice wasn't human, couldn't be. Either it was modulated or the cape was a meta, and a strong one at that. There was nothing identifiable in that voice, and the unquestionable aura of power did little but set the Bat’s youngest on edge. There was something not _ right _about it, a pricking crawl creeping along his spine. Robin didn’t like it. 

“Why can't we see your face?” The woman whirled, startled. It was obvious she didn't know he was there. Robin tried not to feel smug. He heard the near silent swoosh of the Bat’s cape, and knew that his father and Red Robin had arrived. He fought the smirk that wanted to creep into his face with marginally more success. The mask spun again, realising she was surrounded. 

“Sorry, no time for questions! Promise I’m not going to hurt anyone. Bye!” And then she threw herself off the side of the building. Robin made an aborted lunge forward, skidding to a stop as he realised there was no way to reach her in time, watching as her body plummeted. There were no holds on any of the opposite buildings, nothing for a grapple hook to latch onto– one of the reasons they’d penned her in against this ledge– and she was going to splatter against the pavement below.

Ladybird’s hand darted out as the assembled Bats watched on, horror bleeding into fascination as her device hurtled forward, shattering a reinforced glass window and wrapping itself around the frame. Her body jerked, shoulder pulled taught– and then she was yanking herself upwards, cable unwinding and returning to her hand, ready for her next throw. She hit the side of the building with her feet, glass shuddering but not breaking– how, when her yo-yo grapple had neatly smashed the window below her– and she ran along it for a moment– how was that _ possible– _ before kicking off out into open space, catching herself with a flung chord that carried her onto the roof. Their heads tilted back as they watched her, agape. A flash of red, and she was gone.

In her wake it was Red Hood that spoke first, 

“She has to be a meta, right?” Red Robin frowned. 

“I don't know, metahuman powers don't usually work on cameras. Besides, that syntax? No way she’s as old or powerful as she sounds, she has to be modulating her voice somehow” 

“But to move like that?” None of them had an answer, and Red Hood growled his frustration under his breath– “Fucking Ladybird”– It seemed to sum up all their sentiments, none of them needed the extra headache of a mysterious and inexplicable cape in their city. “Was that a handheld winch?”

“I'll get that window fixed tomorrow, see if we can narrow down what she was using based on the damage” they all nodded, it wouldn't be the first time Bruce Wayne’s philanthropy had been a cover for Batman’s work. Red Robin turned to Damian. 

“What did you notice?” The former assassin paused for a moment, mulling over his answer, before saying finally. 

“Her boots, they were red, spotted black. Covered only her feet. Her shin guards were _ on top of _them, it was almost as if they weren't boots at all they were so closely shaped to each foot. And her gloves were exactly the same. It’s high quality tech, I couldn't peg the material. It's definitely not the low grade Kevlar blend covering the rest of her”

“You don't think the suit is her costume at all do you. You think it's a disguise”

* * *

Early Sunday morning Alfred drove the Wayne family to the airfield. The girls and Dick had said their goodbyes earlier that morning, having actual jobs that needed getting back to, leaving Jason, Tim, Bruce and of course Damian to accompany Marinette to the plane that would carry her back to Paris. She was sad to be leaving– these people were a second family to her– but she knew it needed to be done, Paris needed Ladybug. Her and Damian had already said their goodbyes, so the black-clad teen was silent where he was leaning against the car, face impassive. She didn’t try include him in the boisterous round of hugs, merely waiting until the last Wayne released her– Jason, he pressed a switchblade into her palm and she subtly palmed it off to Tim behind his back. She didn’t need the hassle of trying to navigate customs with it, and she had enough blades of her own– before pulling him into a light embrace and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Something around his eyes softened, and he in turn pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was hard, dating long-distance like this, but would have been harder without Bruce’s wealth facilitating frequent visits. She’d see him again at the end of semester, and as much as it felt like she was leaving her heart behind with him her duty propelled her onwards, disappearing into the tumult of the airport. 

* * *

Marinette closed her eyes, settling into the deep, comfortable airplane seat. She insisted on paying for her own flights– she certainly was paid enough for her design work as MDC to afford the odd flight to Gotham– but somehow her tickets kept getting _ mysteriously _ upgraded to first class. She’d suspect Bruce, but the man had always had a clear boundary about respecting personal autonomy, so it was probably Tim. Melancholy clung to her bones, and the dark-haired Parisian had to force herself towards sleep, anxiety prickling along her skin. Though she was loathe to admit it she dreaded the looming return to school, to Lila and Alya, to Adrien and all her former friends. But it could be worse, she could have no one, instead she had Kagami, and Luka, and Chloe. Marinette never would have thought she’d be classing _ Chloe _ as one of her closest friends, but the other girl had refused point blank to entertain Lila’s lies, and her support had given Alix and Kim the confidence to side with Marinette as well. Max, Nathaniel and Juleka had mostly remained neutral, though Sabrina and Ivan often sided with Lila. Marinette knew it was hurting Chloe to have such a strained relationship with Sabrina, though the Bee miraculous holder had gradually come to understand that it had been a toxic friendship, and to appreciate the real friends she had found in Marinette and Kagami– the fencer had even trusted Chloe with her identity, Luka too, though Chloe remained unaware that Luka wielded the snake. Everyone, of course, knew that Chloe was Queen Bee, though once she had stopped touting it about the fact seemed to have faded from people’s conscious minds unless anyone actively brought it up– just another marvel of Miraculous magic. Marinette turned in her seat, unable to ease the pit of dread in her stomach, logic doing nothing to quell her unease. She really didn’t want to be returning to College Françoise Dupont, but she would be alright, she still had friends; after all, what’s the worst that could happen?

  
  


* * *

In the rush of Marinette’s leaving it almost went unnoticed that the crew Bruce sent out to fix the window found it completely undamaged. 


	3. What's in a Home?

At least it was warmer, in Paris. That was Marinette’s one consolation, the fucking weather, and she scowled as she trudged home from school, clutching her torn and stained school bag to her chest. She’d be able to repair the strap on the weekend, and hopefully scrub the paint out of the fabric. An ‘accident’ apparently, and by all accounts bar hers it was. Marinette reached the bakery and gave herself one moment, just one moment to dwell on how terrible her day had been, resting her cheek against the cool stone facade for a minute before she pushed open the door of the bakery. 

She knew how she must look, knew her hair was a mess and that the skin beneath her eyes ached in a way that meant it was stained dark with sleeplessness, but her parents didn't turn, didn't see. She was resolutely glad for their inattention, didn't have the energy to field their concern, but that didn't stop a small part of her from sinking. 

“Marinette!” Her father's voice was boisterous, and enthusiastic. She tried to muster her usual joy, she really did, but she was bone tired and utterly done with today. “Put your school things upstairs and come help your mother with the icing”

“Of course papa” she called, voice sounding strained to her own ears. “Be down in a minute!”

Upstairs Marinette dropped her burden, following her trashed bag to the floor. Just a moment, just one moment. Her knees hit wood and she let her head fall, face losing its impassive shell as she allowed her eyes to scrunch, fighting tears, lips twisting into a silent shout, the only one she could give. Marinette’s first week back at school had been hell. Lila had been relentless, and Alya had done little but kick her friend while she was down. Former friend, she should say, not that Alya seemed to have noticed. Adrien, who _ smiled _ at her whenever she stayed silent, let another of Lila’s lies go unchecked. Adrien who _ encouraged _ her voiceless suffering. And Alya, Alya who had the gall to insist her bag _ had _ been an accident, who seemed to _ believe _ it, who had been oblivious to Lila’s smirk– Alya who either tried to pretend or legitimately thought she was still Marinette’s friend. Though she felt like her chest was about to burst, explode or cave inwards it didn't _ matter_– despite it all Marinette forced herself up off the floor, freeing her hair from its tattered pigtails and drawing it back into a smooth bun. Smooth, polished, impassive. The desperate sob working its way up her throat faded, was forcibly shoved _ down_, deep inside where no one would ever hear it, where it would never escape. 

Marinette went downstairs, and though her mamam frowned at her drawn face she didn't say anything, and Marinette let her mind numb as she went through the motions of finishing off dozens of frosted decorations. 

  
  


* * *

Darkness had long since blurred the Paris skyline, a smattering of lights flickering to life against the warm depth of the night. Dusk bled into greyed out indigo, then shrouded ink as the night bloomed around the trio of heroes wrapping up evening patrol. The three congregated on a rooftop, deserted, high up and a little ways away from the central city proper, comfortable in their well-worn routine. Viperion settled himself smoothly, posture open as he relaxed back leaning onto an arm, one leg splayed out in front of him. Beside him Ladybug sprawled onto the tiles, exhalation leaving her all in a rush. The indigo hero glanced at her once out of the corner of an eye, and let her be, instead watching Queen Bee as she leapt into the air above the roof, folding a couple of lazy flips before she landed. Luka chuckled warmly, only smiling in response as the Bee stuck out her tongue. Chloe was always energetic while transformed, flitting into motion and only rarely still. It wasn't until she transformed back that the exhaustion hit, and all of them had carried her back to her hotel on more than one occasion. He opened his mouth to speak but was frantically shushed, Viperion turning his head to see Ladybug dozing against the ceramic tile covering the roof. He closed his mouth hurriedly, frowning. While they'd almost all taken a nap during downtime before it was rarely _ Ladybug_, their leader usually preferring to watch over them, and Luka wouldn't deny the frisson of concern sprouting within him. Now, seeing her restless in sleep, he realised that it had been weeks since he’d last seen her look relaxed. Chloe has stopped her restless acrobatics now, and she met the Snake’s eyes, Viperion seeing his own concern mirrored on her face. 

Just then the distant scream of sirens wrent the air, and Ladybug flew to her feet, rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes. 

“Come on, no days off for a hero”. They took of running. It had been a joke, but something about her tone had Luka narrowing his eyes. When he wasn't transformed Ladybug sounded ageless and invincible, but as Viperion he could hear the strain in her voice, and see the weariness dragging at her limbs. He had hoped her vacation would've done her more good, but he’d watched her slide into exhaustion so quickly that it was as if she’d never had that temporary uptick, she was just as worn out as before she’d left. It didn't seem fair that she had no one to support her, not the way the other three members of their team did. Him, Kagami and Chloe often met up as their hero selves just to hang out, compare notes and de-stress. Once he would've assumed that Chat Noir knew, that he was able to support their leader, but the mangy feline hardly even showed anymore, whenever he did it was only to complain and make a nuisance of himself. So no, unless she had told him previously (and he didn't act like it) then the black cat wasn't able or even willing to support Ladybug the way Luka knew the rest of them wanted to. Viperion slowed, Ladybug and Queen Bee flying past him towards the disturbance, mind drawing power from his limbs as the thought gripped him. Chloe didn't know _ his _ identity, and that didn't stop them hanging out as their alters. Why couldn't Ladybug join them, even if just to break up the monotony for her? Maybe it would do them all some good. 

* * *

The dust settled gently, the world holding its breath almost imperceptibly in the wake of Ladybug’s magical cure. The Akuma vanished, and a quick eye-contact communication had Viperion remaining behind to comfort the confused Parisian as the Bug and the Bee took to the rooftops, disappearing from the world of civilians. It was mere moments before a lean shape appeared before them, Queen Bee hanging back to watch Ladybug’s back as the Black Cat detached himself from the shadows that had been living at the edge of the fight. The blonde scowled in his direction, partner or no he hadn't lifted a finger to help them, had actually used his baton to fend of the Akuma when it spotted him, only to disappear once they’d taken their eyes off him. Righteous fury simmered in her chest, and her hand itched towards the magical, miniaturised atlatl at her hip. What she wouldn't give to riddle that arrogant cat with paralytic darts! As usual Chat ignored her, launching into an impassioned tirade. Chloe scowled as Ladybug’s shoulders slumped, something going tense along her spine. How dare Chat put this extra stress on her! Didn't he care that she looked dead on her feet? The Bee’s protective rage simmered, filtering into background noise, and she wondered whether she should call for the rest of the hive. Her hand inched towards the holster on her thigh, ready to draw her weapon. It would be easy, just a single wave of her arm to send a volley of poisoned bolts towards him– she kept her eyes on Ladybug, watching. A single elevated sign of distress and she’d turn that cat into a pin cushion! The vicious buzzing vibrating her bones practically purred at that, and the Bee adjusted her grip on her weapon. 

Luka had finished reassuring the victim, fed Sass, and had been on his way to regroup with the others before he heard shouting echoing across the Parisian night. The voice had been solid, reassuring, powerful, and then his transformation had crept up his body and he’d heard the whiny, petulant tone. It could only be Chat Noir, and the rage in his voice had remained constant on both sides of Luka’s transformation. Viperion took off, he knew Chat wasn’t on their side anymore, knew down to his bones that the Cat was no longer a hero, but that didn’t mean he trusted the fleabag around Chloe or Ladybug. The snake hero mightn’t be able to do much against him, negligent or no Chat was a force to be reckoned with, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t there to reinforce his team. 

Viperion arrived on the scene without fanfare, slithering into place behind Ladybug and watching on with growing concern. Chat’s voice was raised, and the impassioned Cat had advanced into Ladybug’s space. The Snake frowned, lip drawing back to bare his fangs in clear warning, an echo of the fanged edges of his mask. He had a gentle soul, and had often felt uncomfortable with how intimidating he could look while transformed, but now he was perfectly at ease with the idea of threatening the bratty cat haranguing Ladybug. Viperion’s eyes flicked over to Queen Bee, noticed how close her hand had drifted to the weapon at her side, and knew he wouldn't be the only one coming to their leader’s defence. 

“What happened to us, milady? It used to be just us, the dream team, partners! I never see you except for attacks anymore” Ladybug’s face was drawn, creased with fatigue, and he could sense that it didn't immediately register what Chat’s words meant, that though they hadn't seen him the other holder had been shadowing them, that he hadn't just been lazy or neglectful in not helping that, he had purposefully withheld his aid unless Ladybug was there, leaving countless people to suffer through his inaction! Viperion bared his fangs, tense and coiled, protective over his teammates against what had suddenly gone from a dangerous nuisance to a potentially deadly threat. The Snake subtly triggered the bracelet on his left wrist, tense, ready. 

“Never _ see _ me? Chat when was the last time you fought with us! You’re supposed to be a hero!” 

“It seems you have all the help you need, don't think I haven't noticed that you don't give Alya or Nino their miraculouses anymore” the sneer on Chat’s face simmered, and Queen Bee twitched. Viperion spared her a quick glance– her expression was pure outrage, and he could tell exactly what she’d been thinking. After the hard learned lesson about appreciating secret identities Chat just casually outs two former holders?– before returning his attention to the argument, expectant almost. There was no way this would be ending well. 

Ladybug’s eyes _ flamed_.

“The fox and turtle weren’t _ their _ miraculouses, they were on loan temporarily, they _ knew _ that. It’s not my fault if they–” Chat cut her off, furious, flinging a clawed hand towards the other two heroes.

“But you let _ them _ keep them? What about _ my friends_!” Everything ground to a halt, the blood draining out of Ladybug’s face, and she half turned– towards her two teammates, Viperion’s hand already creeping towards his wrist when Chat lunged at her, magically piercing claws glinting. The world dissolved into blinding white. 

“The fox and turtle–” Viperion’s hand landed on Ladybug’s shoulder and she stopped mid sentence, gazing up at him in confusion. 

“Let it go” he advised, aqua gaze boring into her, as always the familiar _ weight _of knowledge there cluing her in even if the expiring bracelet didn’t. She didn’t know what had happened, what was being rewritten, but she trusted Viperion implicitly. He’d tell her later, they’d regroup and develop a plan in light of whatever new knowledge he had held onto. 

She turned, casting her yo-yo and leaping from the roof, feeling the Snake and Bee follow her, leaving Chat simmering with impotent rage behind them.

* * *

“He did _ what?_”

“Lunged at you, attacked. After he outed himself as being friends with Carapace and Rena’s civilian selves”. Queen Bee gasped, fury blazing in her eyes, but Ladybug merely dragged her costumed fingers through her hair. The buns didn’t budge, but she only sighed, letting her head droop before she swore, exhausted and _ vicious_. 

“You’re taking his ring aren’t you?” the Bee demanded, and Ladybug turned hopeless eyes towards them.

“Aside from the fact I don’t know his identity? There can’t be a Ladybug active without a Black Cat, we must maintain cosmic balance, even if we can’t trust Chat Noir” she shook her head, heaving a deep sigh “Just, give me some time. I need to figure out what to do, if there’s anyone who would make a suitable holder. In the meantime be careful around him, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him and any of you would come off second best against a Black Cat, that goes for Ryuko as well,” she said, levelling them both with a stern look. Obviously she knew that Kagami and Chloe were friends, and the look she was giving him hinted that she knew as much about Viperion and Ryuko as well, both in and out of the mask. “See you tomorrow night alright guys?” With that she was off, and the two remaining heroes shared a glance. While most of those issues couldn’t be solved, they could at least get a start on figuring out who Chat Noir really was so that they could surprise him when Ladybug figured out what to do about his Miraculous, especially since he didn’t know what he’d revealed that night.

* * *

Chat Noir was fuming. Just who did his Lady think she was, treating him like he was one of her sidekicks? He was her _ partner _ , the Guardian had chosen _ them _ to defend Paris, _ together_, what was she thinking running around creating other heroes. At first it had ben pretty cool, when he was fighting with his friends, but Ladybug was in charge of who had their miraculous and for how long, and _ that _ had stopped being fun when she’d decided she didn’t trust his friends anymore. They hadn’t even done anything wrong! It’s not as if Ladybug spent any time with them, so how could she claim they ‘weren’t acting like heroes’? She was just looking for an excuse to replace them, and apparently _ he _ didn’t get a say-so. Chat folded his arms, huffing in aggravation. If she wasn’t going to treat him like a partner then he wasn’t going to act like one, we’ll see how long until she came crawling back. She _ needed _ him, she’d said it herself, and Plagg had said how important a Blak Cat was to their Ladybug. So what exactly was she playing at? She was _ his_, and the last time he’d been talking to her she’d ditched him on _ Luka’s _ orders. Just what had she been about to say about the fox and turtle, not _ good enough_? As if she was anyone to judge, not when she treated him like an immature child! He’d show her, he’d show them all! 

* * *

There was a sudden _ thump _ in front of her, and Marinette jerked her head up from the notepad she’d been idly doodling in. She’d long since stopped bringing any of her sketchbooks to school, and the unexpected appearance of her once-best friend reminded her why. Anxiety coiled in her gut, tension muddying her blood, as Alya abruptly claimed the seat across from Marinette, fixing her with an intense gaze that had her itching to flee. Sadness bloomed alongside the apprehension, and she allowed the greyscale melancholy to encircle her in its embrace for a moment– who would have ever thought there’d be a time when the arrival of Alya would make her feel anything but happiness?– before returning her attention back to the Martiniquan-French girl she had once considered her closest friend.

“Girl you need to get a hold of yourself, you can’t keep moping about like this! I know you’re torn between Adrien and Luka but you need to just woman up and _ask_ one of them!” Marinette blinked in the face of the impassioned tirade, taken off guard by the way Alya just launched into it without preamble, as if this was part of an ongoing dialogue– as if the two of them were still friends. Did Alya truly think _they were still friends_? After everything she’d done, after every time she chose Lila over her, after every time she beat her down? Surely she couldn’t be so naive, _surely_. “Honestly it’s worth a shot at this point, and you can’t just keep stringing everyone along like this, we’re all invested in your drama girl!” Marinette was torn, she could explain– she _had_ liked Adrien but that had been _three_ _years ago_, they were barely even friends these days, had been increasingly distant in the face of his continual pacificity to Lila’s reign of terror, and her and Luka had never been anything other than good friends– but she was so tired of it all, so sick of the way school dragged at her, weighing her down. She got to her feet, shoving her notepad into her bag and turning to go, she didn’t have to _deal_ with this, she had Damian and the two of them were _happy. _The other girl’s hand darted out, seizing Marinette’s wrist, and she felt her heart stop, world narrowing to that single point of terrifying contact.

“_Stop_ _it_ Alya. We aren’t friends anymore! You don’t get to–”

“Just because we’re not as close anymore after _ you _ refused to give up your ridiculous grudge against Lila doesn’t mean I don’t _ care _ about you. You need to–”

“Stop telling me what to do!” Marinette snapped, jerking herself backwards out of Alya’s grip. “I _ have _ a boyfriend”

“Ugh not _ this _ again,” Alya sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward “you need to stop _ lying _ Marinette, I _ know _ you’re not brave enough to make a move but you need to pull your head in before your friends do it _ for _you” with that horrifying pronouncement she strutted away, leaving behind a Marinette trapped in an impotent web of conflicted and overlapping feelings, shaking in the face of the dizzying wash of emotion as the walls warped around her, curving inward to swallow her whole. 

* * *

Damian had been having a vexing day. School had been a drag, Jon had been away with his father on League business that Robin had been excluded from, leaving behind a bitter Damian without even his grudgingly accepted friend to lessen the sting. The son of the Bat sat cross legged on his bed, coiled in his dark turtleneck, slight scowl creasing his face as he glowered down at the batarang in his lap, gently running a whetstone against the edge, casting a baleful glance over the other three shaped blades arrayed beside him on the duvet. He was sulking, so what, it wasn’t like Father was even here to complain to, and he was rostered off patrol for tonight so he could focus on _ homework _ of all things. 

His phone rang, and Damian felt himself soften slightly, harsh mood melting as he beheld the caller ID. Curious though, it was night in Gotham but halfway across the world Marinette should be at school, so why was she calling him? 

“Angel?” Damian wasn’t prepared for the rush of distraught french that followed, momentarily taken off guard before he processed her tone. His french had been getting better but he still found himself struggling to follow the exact words she was saying, her voice however he could understand perfectly. 

“Hush, juste respirer mon coeur, raconte-moi ce qui s'est passé quand tu peux” he ached to be with her, to be able to envelop her in his arms and shield her from whatever had triggered this. Gradually her voice calmed, until she was mostly calm once more. He could so clearly picture her, face scrunched up tight against the tears surely burning within her, not even aware she was shaking as she clutched her knees to her chest, burying her face in her folded arms. 

“_Est-ce que tu vas bien_?” 

“_Oui_” her voice shook, and his heart broke for her even as his resolve sharpened. “Yeah, yeah I’m alright Dami, just a hard day at school”

“Tell me about it?”

* * *

Paranoia was getting to her. All day Rose, Sabrina, and Lila had been shooting glances at her, clearly whispering and giggling amongst themselves, yet nothing had happened yet, and it had reached the point that Marinette was practically jumping at shadows. After the confrontation yesterday she’d just wanted one day to catch a break, but the way things were looking made that increasingly unlikely. It wasn’t that she feared _ physical _ injury, not from them, and even when Lila escalated to tripping her the most that had happened was a few rips in her clothes, nothing not easily repaired. She was more durable than a normal human, one who wasn’t a Holder, and Lila scowled when Marinette merely rolled to her feet. She hadn’t tried it in a while, but Marinette was about ready to write the whole day off already. Even if they didn’t do anything the suspense was killing her! 

The trio had been absent during the second morning break, and at the time Marinette had been glad for the respite, but now, heading back into the classroom with Kim, she realised it hadn’t been a break at all. Now she knew why she’d seen Sabrina talking to Nathaniel earlier, and it saddened her to think that the boy had given in to their request, but maybe they hadn’t told him what it was for? Marinette wasn’t holding her breath however, something sinking in her chest as she realised there was no getting out of this now. No matter what she did she was sure Lila had a counter. Accuse her? No witnesses, telling tales will get you detention Marinette. Ask to swap seats? Marinette’s just looking for attention, trying to abuse her position as class president. Point out the swathe of fresh, red paint on her chair? Leave it to be noticed by someone else? Vandalism, Marinette? We’ll have to speak to your parents about this. The heroine felt like crying, hopelessness welling up inside her until she felt like she was about to burst. How she wishes she could trap Akumas even half as well as Lila could trap her!

Kim bumped into her, seemingly not having noticed her stopped stock still in the doorway. Behind him, she could hear the rest of the class coming down the hall. None of her scenarios had factored in the other boy’s anger, and he didn’t appear to be thinking ahead either as he darted forward and stood there, in the middle of the room, pointing at her chair.

“How dare you! You li-” Marinette felt herself shoved further out of the way, the rest of the class eagerly rushing towards the commotion. 

“Ms Bustier!” Lila cried, shifting from smug to distraught in an instant. “Kim defaced Marinette’s chair, look! I saw him” the two girls at her back were quick to add their own voices condemning Kim, and despite the boy’s vehement protests he was given detention for the following day. Lila smirked as Kim sunk into his own seat, Marinette once more being moved to the back of the room. She tried to catch Kim’s eye but his head was down, busy texting someone, and Marinette felt her heart sink. Great, another friend lost. It wasn’t until Alix rushed into the room, back from her dentist’s appointment, by-passing her usual seat to head straight for Marinette. She slid in next to the shocked class captain, squeezing her forearm gently. 

“Kim told me what happened, Lila’s a real bitch!” Marinette giggled, oblivious to Lila’s expression, and thought that would be the end of it.

She’d been wrong, very wrong, she realised now, horror stewing like bile in her lungs as her eyes _ burned _ with the promise of tears. Seated at the back of the room she’d been able to see the girls on their phones, sharing sinister giggles and gazes laden heavy with meaning, dread shackling Marinette to her seat even as the bell rang for lunch. Her phone chimed, Alix’s too, and Marinette glanced at the screen, feeling suddenly like she was going to be sick.

_ “Adrinette Agreste, a four part series” _

There, online, her former crush on Adrien. Testimonials from Alya, Rose, Sabrina, Juleka– a list of all her stupid _ stupid _ actions, most of which had been Alya’s idea! Online! What if Damian saw it? Panic clawed up her insides, seizing her throat. The girls had implied she still liked Adrien, what if Damian believed it, what if his brothers did, his sisters, Alfred, Bruce? What if they thought she was an idiot, what if they disapproved of her dating Damian, what if _ Damian _ wanted to break up with her? Beside her Alix was getting to her feet, menacing towards the huddle of giggling girls, but they made it out the door before she got to them, and Kim snagged her on his way past, dragging her over to Marinette, who remained frozen, unmoving in her seat. 

“We’re taking you home” he said, “and you’re either going to tell them what happened or beg off sick. You’re not coming back to school this afternoon”. Marinette just nodded, fighting the tears aching to spill down her cheeks, and let Kim guide her from the room, oblivious to Alix’s very vocal confrontation with Alya.

“How could you?!”

“I’m doing her a _ favour_, girl needs to own up to her crush and tell him!”

“Get this through your thick skull, Césaire! You don’t choose what’s best for Marinette, _ Marinette _ choses what’s best for Marinette!”

“I’m her best friend!”

“Well you certainly don’t act like it!”

  
  


* * *

Marinette was in her room, huddled under her duvet, when there was a knock on the hatch to her bedroom. She didn't move, figuring her parents would just go away and leave her to her misery, when someone threw the hatch open. She startled, poking her tear-stained face up from underneath the covers. Chloe was standing there, dressed immaculately in a neatly pressed, sparkling cocktail dress and shadowed coat, hair swept up into an elegant up-do, glittering with jewellery. 

“Get up Dupain-Cheng” Chloe said, nudging the blanketed mass on the bed with a perfectly manicured finger. “You’re coming with me tonight”. The mess of bedding made a noise that could charitably be described as word-adjacent. Chloe rolled her eyes, shoving her hands inside the blanket nest pulling free the protesting form of Marinette, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor.

“Ouch” she winced, glaring at Chloe and rubbing spitefully at her head. The blonde just rolled her eyes. 

“Get over it you sook, now no arguing. You’re coming to a soiree at père’s hotel. Go and have a shower, I’ll pick out something for you to wear and get ready to do your face when you’re out” she knew there was no point in arguing, so Marinette dragged herself to her feet and trundled towards the bathroom, leaving Chloe staring contemplatively at the inside of her closet, vaguely wondering if Damian or one of his brothers had found the girls’ post yet. 


End file.
